


Rabbit or Wolf?

by SarahJuniperBerry



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJuniperBerry/pseuds/SarahJuniperBerry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were many expressions that came about Sherlock's face if you paid enough attention. His brows knitted when he was uncomfortable, his nose twitched when he was in pain, and he even smiled while he was on cases, but the thing that never changed was the unnerving superior look in his eyes. This case that we had finished weeks before had changed him, but I wasn't sure if it was for better, or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rabbit or Wolf?

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to say the first part is written by my friend Akilirose on Deviantart. The story is based off of a picture on said website. Here's the link: http://fav.me/d2ym3fh

"John..." Sherlock whispered in my ear. I looked away, his breath tickling my ear and I shut my eyes tightly in fear. Was he really, REALLY going to pull through with this plan? "Just...don't..." I whimpered, not liking this plan.

Who would have known that this time the criminal would be so absurdly obsessed with gays? Every attack had been on a gay couple so far, and Sherlock was hoping that we could act well enough like one to pull it off. Behind us there was a subtle sound, maybe a footstep on the pavement. Sherlock bent closer to me, his lips lightly sliding across my cheek. My heart was beating faster and faster, when suddenly...He whirled around. A young woman behind us let out a shriek, and I heard the sound of something metal being dropped. As I opened my eyes in time to see them, Sherlock grabbed her wrists tightly.

"Misses Auburn. Nice to see you again." Sherlock smirked happily, now that another puzzling case had been solved.

...

When we got back to our flat, I slumped down in my usual chair with a long sigh.

"Well, that went well." Sherlock commented cheerily.

"Well?! You almost kissed me!" I snapped at him as he put poured a cup of cold tea.

"Indeed! And I would have, too, if she hadn't interrupted us." Sherlock nodded, walking over. He put on hand on on of the arm rests of my chair and leaned in close. "The game is still afoot, John Watson." He whispered, before straightening and turning to go to his bedroom. He paused at the door and glanced back at me with a smirk. I sat there, dumb founded and confused. What game?

By: AkiliRose

A month had passed since Sherlock had finished the case to which I had appropriately name "Butch's Homicide Case" in my blog. Sherlock continued to intrigue me as he kept on with his cases throughout this time. I could feel him eye me as I walked about the flat; sometimes I caught him staring at me while making a cuppa or raking his eyes along my body as I fixed holes in the wall from when he got "bored" as he often did when there were no cases. Today was no different. I was fixing the massive hole in the wall from his "boredom" earlier in the week as he had taken the harpoon from a previous case and blown a massive hole where the smiley face had once been. Sherlock had taken a seat in his arm chair with his violin and was playing Zino Francescatti's Vitali Chaconne in G minor with mild disinterest. I'd heard him play this piece before, but never while we were sitting in the flat like this. It usually happened when we were in the middle of a case. The song was a bit, domineering? For Sherlock, it sounded like he was playing in order to overpower whomever he played for. He seemed to know the piece very well. Well enough, in fact, that he didn't need music or to even pay attention to play it correctly. He seemed to do quite a good job of playing while staring at me. Again. While playing the violin.

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. In the past I wouldn't have cared. He normally spaced out while looking at me or in a designated area. However since the "Butch's Homicide Case" a month ago his gaze was more heated. Like it wanted to devour me in one bite. Even when his expression is still the calculated blank look he often wore, I still can't help but feel slightly warm when he looks at me. His comment from then still swims around in my mind, filling me with confusion and odd feelings. 'The game is still afoot, John Watson.' What the hell did that mean? I'd asked him many times and he'd simply smirked at me before he returned to his previous expression; blank and staring out into space. Finishing the spackling on the wall I dropped the spatula in the off white paste before getting down off of the latter and setting the spackle on the floor.

At my movements Sherlock hurriedly looked away, trying to make it look like he had been staring in the other direction the whole time. I shook my head, knowing how absurd he was acting before I stretched out my arm and rolled my neck.

"There." I said looking at him to see if he gave any reaction. He didn't, thinking he had fooled me by his earlier movements. "I fixed the hole in the wall..." I spoke and again he didn't move. "Sherlock." I said his name and this time he blinked as his head moved up, seeming to come back from his mind palace to look in my direction.

"Oh. John. Good!" Sherlock said giving me a quick smile before turning away again. "Good." He said again and stood up. "Care for a cuppa?" He asked in which case I nodded. "Great." He said walking off in a hurry like he had a hot skillet pressed to his trousers. I looked after him in confusion and shook my head again before cleaning up the supplies from fixing the wall.

As I walked past the kitchen I glanced over to see Sherlock standing away from the coffee machine, not surprisingly, staring at me while I passed. I looked up at the ceiling wondering if he would ever stop. Every time his eyes landed on me it turned something inside me that made my entire body hum with a pleasant feeling. I wondered what it was seeing as I had never felt this way before. I sure as hell hadn't felt it with anyone I dated either.

"John." Sherlock's voice suddenly came from the kitchen as I put the tools away in the closet.

 

"Yes Sherlock." I called back as I closed the door. I turned from the door and came face to face with Sherlock's chest. Looking up in surprise I took a step back trying hard not to let the blush that was rising up my neck show. "W-what did you need... Sherlock?" I asked stuttering nervously. Sherlock looked down at me, his eyes darker than normal and I could see his pupils dilate under the light of the hall light. That was the look of someone who wanted to eat a person right up and i had never seen it on Sherlock's face before. Slowly, I backed myself up against the door as I tried to tear my eyes from his, but his eyes held me there. My hands grasped the door frame; a nervous reaction that I hadn't known I had before. Sherlock grew closer to me with every breath I took. His gaze never fell from mine and as much as I didn't want it to be happening, I knew that if he did anything at this very moment, I wouldn't be able to protest.

"John..." Sherlock said my name and I tried hard to control my body to keep it from trembling at his tone. I swallowed and tried to collect myself as best as I could in this extremely arousing situation.

"Sherlock, I have to be at the clinic soon..." I tried halfheartedly to make up an excuse but knew that Sherlock would never believe it now. Not with the way he was acting.

Sherlock slammed his hands against the wall on either side of my head and claimed my lips with his own in the instant it took me to blink. My eyes widened and what was left of my mind slowed down in the middle of trying to process what exactly was happening. All I could focus on was the sensation running down my spine and the feel of Sherlock's lips on my own. I knew Sherlock was trying to coax me into kissing back. His lips slowly and hesitantly moved on my own, but it took me until Sherlock was going to pull away for me to finally kiss back. At my response Sherlock seemed to brighten as he kissed with more urgency. He leaned into me with a pleased sigh that had me copying his sounds of appreciation.

Our lips moved together as the kiss began to change. I felt as though Sherlock wanted to devour me, wanted to consume my whole being. His kiss was hot and his tongue slipped into my mouth to caress my own in a way that I hadn't felt with many other sexual partners. Just as a throb of lust ran down to more important places Sherlock pulled away rather quickly and turned from me. When I had enough sense to notice he had pulled away he was down the hall turning into the living room already. I was left leaning against the door to the cleaning supplies wondering what had just happened. When I finally gained control of myself I realized that Sherlock's phone was ringing. Trying to catch my breath I stood away from the wall and listened to Sherlock answer his phone.

"Inspector Lestrade, you have another case for us?" Sherlock answered and I heard him pause briefly before I made my way down the hall. When I entered the room I chanced a look over to him. His cheeks were flushed slightly but other than that, nothing seemed to be out of place. "Alright." Sherlock stated before nodding. "We'll be over quickly." Sherlock said hanging up before his face broke into a grin. "John get your coat on! We've got a double homicide!" Sherlock said striding around the room picking up various belongings happily. I gave him a slightly miffed look before shaking my head and giving up. Knowing Sherlock, the only reason he had done that was to see what the heart rate would be of shock, or how long it would take for me to respond... or something to the nature.

"Sherlock..." I started as I picked up my coat and scarf before trailing off at Sherlock's expression.

Sherlock was walking out of the flat with a smirk on his face, but what mad me unsettled was the glint in his eyes and the undertone of a devilish grin in that smirk. I coughed nervously, down-casting my eyes before making my way out of 221b. Mire than likely i had a nice flush of red on my face. Sherlock continued walking like nothing happened and now I could feel the confusion set in again. Sherlock had obviously just kissed me and kissed me like his life depended on it, but... did Sherlock even like me?

**Author's Note:**

> I've edited this chapter because it's three years old and I didn't quite enjoy the writing style that I had used. Let me know what you think of the edited version in a comment!


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